The reason why I want to write about a year in my life five years ago? Many to be honest. I look back on that year as a really great year of my life, and as a City fan it shouldn't be forgotten. When people talk about the dark days, they tend to write about 1995-1999, but for a younger generation, the most deflating season of watching City was during 2006-07. That's not to say that the contributors of King of the Kippax and City 'til I Cry didn't do a great job writing about the agony at the time. Probably all the better parts of the season had already happened as Big Ben struck midnight to signal a new year, but no one would have expected the excitement in the Autumn. I've discussed this blog with a few others recently, so you might get the occasional tale from Tom Matley (@OrtusUk) or Andy Green (@ag_mcfc). If you want the full, unedited version of my life events, you'll have to wait for my book (I'm not writing a book. Yet.)
So sit back, relax. Dig out your old Arctic Monkeys/Klaxons/We Are Scientists albums look at a picture of Beth Ditto, and remember how E4 completely over-hyped Skins...
The Manchester City of the mid-noughties were nothing like what we have become. For those not in the know, I'll try and sum it up as quickly as I can. We were underachieving for years, culminating in relegation in 1996. A lot of players came for the wages at a big club in a shit league and we got worse. 1999 started with our rise back into the top league, and although there were a few hiccups on the way, we started the 2003-04 season with a new stadium, new players and a new hope. We truly believed we could kick on from our 9th place finish in the previous season and qualify for Europe. We didn't. We were back being underachieving, players on high wages who didn't care. The soul of the club was left at Maine Road and the momentum of two successive promotions and the best football we had seen under Keegan had run out. Keegan wasted money on experienced players at the wrong end of their careers and Pearce was left to pick up the pieces.
Once we had sold off our most valued players (Anelka, Wright-Phillips) and the high-wage earners had either retired, moved on or just disappeared altogether (did Mills and McManaman ever play for anyone else after their contracts expired?) we were left to begin the 2006-07 with only Dunne and Distin as proven City players with talent. Vassell was injured, Barton was/is/forever shall be an accident waiting to happen, and then there was the likes of Ireland, Onouha and Richards who were still young and inexperienced. As strikers our options were Samaras (yes, and he was first fucking choice!), and the two new signings; returning Paul Dickov and Bernardo Corradi. Dickov must have been brought in as a mascot. Not that he was ever first choice in his first spell at City, but I can't see how his return was ever going to be a good idea. And as for Corradi; slow, really painfully slow, wasteful, didn't really seem to be a goal threat, ever. Good celebrations when he did score though. The rest of the squad was made up of never-really-done-its like Reyna, Sinclair, Jihai, Thatcher, Jordan as well as new signings that were clearly past it like Dabo. Didi Hamann was brought in, but I won't talk about him until a lot later on. And Joe Hart was bought, which is the only silver lining on what was otherwise the darkest cloud of a transfer window for many a year. Sorry, that wasn't a quick summing up.
So the clock struck midnight, and the year 2007 was upon us. I was at a shite house party in the middle of nowhere. Things were very different back then. People had just discovered Facebook, nobody knew what Twitter was, the music charts were full of Indie bands and people still wore blazers and jeans on a night out (not that I ever did). Also, and probably most shockingly, around this time in my life I didn't drink. Yes, me. Liam Wright. Being in my first year at Uni, I spent all the money I had on watching City - plus I didn't (and still don't) like drinking lager, fruity ciders weren't readily available yet and I probably wasn't brave enough to drink Guiness yet. My friends didn't mind it though, I suppose it's always good to have the designated driver. The first few hours of 2007 I spent driving around with my mate Matt as he tried to track down another house party where his girlfriend was. I can't remember what exactly happened but I ended up doing something to my car which made it difficult to drive. When I got up in the morning ready to go to the match (we had Everton at home) I didn't feel safe in it. I was knackered and I'd just seen us beat Sheffield United away and West Ham away, so I thought I'd give the game a miss. Little did I know that the two goals that Samaras scored that day, the first day of the new year, would be the last league goals I saw at City until August.
I too missed those goals scored by Samaras against Everton. I saw the New Year in down in Bow in East London with some old mates, and like Liam's car was something of a write-off on New Year's Day and in no shape to travel. If you'd have told me that they were the last league goals that City would have scored at home that season I probably would have called you some bad bad names. If I'd have actually known that they were the last goals we'd score at home it wouldn't have had any influence on my decision to miss the game. Things were getting pretty bad already by this point watching City.
After Stuart Pearce's first full season in charge of 05-06 ended with 9 defeats out of 10 in the league and bottling it massively against West Ham in the quarter final of the cup it seemed apparent there wasn't much to look forward to in 06-07, and so it was proving to be. John Wardle also seemed sick of it and was desperately seeking a buyer for the club. We'd had the Thatcher assault on Mendes, rumours of squabbles between the players, hammered 4-0 at Wigan, soundly beaten by United. No, the worm had turned here already and it was only going to get worse.
At the start of every season, if you support a bang-average side they'll tell you that their hopes and aspirations for the next 9 months are, "be safe with 40 points by the end of February and have a good cup run". At the time though, City were probably below average, so for me it was "avoid relegation" but if we'd had a good result, I may add the "good cup run" bit. Everyone likes a good cup run, don't they? Not that I'd ever really seen one. We had disgracefully been eliminated from the League Cup back in September (think about what YOU were doing during your freshers week) against Chesterfield (who went on to get relegated from League 1 that season) but the FA Cup gave us another crack at a cup competition. Another away game over the Pennines beckoned, this time away to Wednesday in my lovely new city of Sheffield. I ended up in the Wednesday end because I didn't think we would sell our 6,000 allocation so quickly. The match was a typical shite-Premiership team against a well motivated Championship team, and we came away with a draw. Probably a bit luckily. Nine days later we had the reply which we easily won, Barton back from suspension showed why he was in the England reckoning at the time. I still remain to this day that the Wednesday fans at our ground that night were the best I've seen.
I've never really ever travelled to more than a handful of away games most seasons but early rounds of the FA Cup were ones I always tried to do. I was at Ninian Park in January 1994 when Nathan Blake scored to beat us and I didn't think I was going to get out of Cardiff alive, I've seen David Brightwell snatch a late equaliser at Notts County, seen us get beat at Oldham, and did both Wednesday and Preston in 2007. We had a great day, starting in the social club where The Full Monty was filmed playing bingo with the pensioners, had a couple more in Sheffield, got well oiled and to be absolutely honest don't remember that much about the game except Samaras' penalty was well dodgy and just about squirted underneath the keeper. All I then really cared about was a few cans for the drive home over the Snake Pass (NOT ME DRIVING! Don't drink and drive kids – it's not cool).
Now. I don't want to get all Nick Hornby 'Fever Pitch' here, but there is something to be said about football sometimes reflecting particular phases of our lives, because if ever there was an omen for about just how shite the football was about to get at Eastlands, it was me getting home pissed after that Wednesday game and finding my girlfriend of eight years with her bags packed in the hall. It never rains, it pours. It was quite traumatic at the time (as these things tend to be) but perhaps the main reason I mention this is that alongside the quality of the football being served up, it might help to explain my decision to remain on the concourse for all but one (I think) of the remaining second halves City would play at home that season.
Our next home game was against Blackburn. This is the first instalment of absolute showers of shite I witnessed against these lot this season. I actually don't remember a lot about the game apart from it was a late kick off and despite it being January, it was warm in Sheffield that morning so I wore only a t-shirt and jumper. We lost 3-0 at home and the weather wasn't as kind to me. The last goal they scored will remain in my memory. One of their players went round City fan Stephen Jordan like he was a traffic cone and crossed the ball for a tap in. With Dunne and Distin, we didn't usually allow sloppy goals, but this was shite, and we were shite. The atmosphere was fucking atrocious and I swear half of the South Stand didn't even come back from half time. To add to this misery, I walked back to Piccadilly to find out that the trains were cancelled to Sheffield and therefore I had to wait for a bus replacement service. I stood their in the rain and cold for two hours waiting for this bus outside the front of Piccadilly. The warm glow of Subway was staring at me, but I didn't want to lose my place in the queue, as no one had any idea what time the bus was coming. I was hoping to go out with friends that night, but by the time the bus had gone to Sheffield (via Huddersfield) I was too cold and tired that I stayed in.
Not only half the South Stand not going back for the second half, but this was happening in all areas of the ground. I sit up in the 3rd tier of the East Stand, and I discovered at half time of the Blackburn game that there were literally scores of people who never bothered going back. Usually the same faces getting in a couple of pints before the bar shut and standing/sitting down there watching the game on the TV. And if I remember rightly, at this point City were still doing the “two pinters”. A two pint pot of the nastiest Fosters you will ever taste. Who could refuse that? Not me.
I remember that last goal. Matt Derbyshire. Waiting for the final whistle, watching on the TV screen, pissing it down outside. Horrible.
Its amazing what you remember, if I have indeed got the correct game, Andre Ooijer got a bad injury right in front of the SS. My Dad came with us and we’d had quite a bit to drink between us. This balloon sat near us started singing ‘Let him die’ to Ooijer and for some reason, a very sporting and thoughtful Alan Green took offence to this. Having a major argument with this guy for singing that about poor old Andre, who was receiving Oxygen at the time. Its funny, because I still see the guy he had that argument with at home games now. He’s a proper not right.
Up for the cup again, we had our 4th round tie against Southampton. They went 1 up and we came to win 3-1. A complete non event to be honest, again, probably shouldn't take for granted the goals we scored at home as the third was the last one of the season. Yep, the last home goal of the season on the 28th January. The next week, I will not say any words. Just watch this:
That just about sums up the season in a 4 minute clip. The atmosphere, the empty seats, the passion, the shite we had to witness. Eugh.
You tend to learn a lot about a club by the calibre of player they try to sign in the January transfer window. In 2011 we paid £27 million for Edin Dzeko. In 2007 we were close to landing Mido after being knocked back for Collins John and even didn't want to stretch to the £1.5 million MK Dons wanted for Izale McLeod. On free's we got Michael Ball and Emile Mpenza. I didn't know a lot about Mpenza, but I knew Ball was decent; although I wasn't expecting a lot more than what we already had in Thatcher.
Nil points on the road away to Portsmouth was followed by a return to the one thing keeping us sane; The FA Cup. I missed out on a ticket for Preston away, didn't have the loyalty points at the time. It should be noted that although watching City was pretty horrific, I was actually having a great time at Uni. Although I wasn't getting out of my mind every night, I did meet a lot of great people. And at the time I was very close with my mate Luke from home, who was living in Leeds. The weekend of the Preston game I had been up to see him and we were in a sports bar in Leeds watching it. Early on Ball marked his debut with a great strike, Nugent pulled it back for Preston before Samaras and then this goal from Ireland sealed it:
Its mad what you remember. Went on my own. Was sat on row 2 I think. Literally everybody in our end stood up except these wonkas behind me who wanted me to sit down because ‘my dad here has just had a heart attack’. Why are you bringing him here then I asked. Then some one legged bloke on the front row starts having a go at me, saying its people like me who ruin the game for him, because he can never see. Bizarre day.
So there we were, for the second time in my City supporting career we were in the quarter finals of the FA Cup.
Back to our awful league campaign. We played Wigan and Charlton in the space of a few days. Both teams were fucking shite. Caleb Folan, who scored against us during that horror show at Chesterfield scored again for Wigan to win 1-0. Charlton was 0-0. Which was better than the 1-0 loss at The Valley if I'm clutching at straws.
Back to cup. The City fans were up for this. The 7/8,000 tickets released were snapped up quickly. There's no chance we could see anything as gutless and painful as the home game six weeks ago, is there? In fact it was worse. I don't like to exaggerate, but this final 15-20 minutes of this game was up there with anything for me. When I hear people talk about the Michael Owen goal against us for United in the 4-3 being a painful memory, I laugh at it compared to this. At least that day we showed that we had something about us. The only thing I can try and compare it to is the scene in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels when Eddy realises he's fucked the card game up. I left Ewood in a similar trance-like state wishing that the day had never happened. The atmosphere was that intense to the point that you couldn't help but feel drenched in hatred. Who or what I hated, I'm not sure. But I knew I hated something. It was like looking into oblivion. It's a moment I will never forget, which can only make the recent good times even sweeter.
I wasn’t convinced we would win, but I thought wed put up a good show. We were awful that day, absolutely gutless. I remember a few coming over at the end, getting only so far and thinking better of it. I remember being stood on my chair booing them, one of the only occasions I can recall doing so. Loads of City fans fighting one another after the game. At one point in my life I had this down as the most intoxicated I had ever been at a football ground, although I think some events over the past couple of years may have overtaken that day.
After Chelsea at home we had three away games. That's us fucked. It has to be. Well Chelsea turned up in second gear and made light work of our shower. But then something miraculous happened. Pearce had promoted young Michael Johnson into midfield and all of a sudden we learnt how to pass the ball again. I didn't go to either Middlesbrough or Newcastle away, but we won both games, new boy Mpenza scored two in two. I went away to Fulham on Easter Monday with some hope back, and would you believe it? We won again. Joey Barton rightly gets abuse off our fans, but on this day he was absolutely brilliant for us. We won 3-1 with Barton, Beasley and Vassell getting the goals. These 9 points in 3 games basically kept us up. Well they did really seeing as from the remaining 6 games we got 2 points.
Watford away was an interesting day. Our last points of the season. Glorious sunshine and the City fans on top form. The pressure was off and it was a great atmosphere. You wouldn't believe that it was only a few weeks previously that we had the awful experience at Ewood. We drew 1-1. I'd have to say that the performance on the day from Ishmael Miller was one of the poorest I've seen in a City shirt. He came on in the 40th minute and had to be taken off again in the 70th. What the previous five games (we drew 0-0 with a good Liverpool team and lost 3-1 away to Arsenal, but were in it right til the end) had taught City is that we do have the potential to do well with some of the players we have, but there was something wrong within the club that isn't allowing us to prosper. Now it's probably OK for me to say this, but it probably wasn't OK for this to happen after the Watford game:
He was right in my opinion, but this was the beginning of the end for Joseph. One week later he missed a penalty against Villa in what ended up being his last performance for City. A few days later, he and Dabo had a scrap in training and he was suspended by the club. I said for a long time that I'd always be fair on Joey because he never let us down on the pitch, but after his shenanigans against us on the last game of the season vs QPR I don't think I can let myself be as lenient.
So, two games left of this dismal season and the two teams I dislike the most. United at home, Spurs away. United had to win this if they were going to win the league. We were so poor that day that there was nothing really to be happy about. I'll try and think of two things though; our fans were great, the atmosphere was top and we really tried to lift the players... but Pearce wanted to play his rigid 4-5-1 system. Another great point of the day was Michael Ball doing this:
Nice one Michael.
I’ve never seen Mary D’s like that, somebody had a load of blue and white balloons and the place was absolutely bouncing. Dave (Mum's husband) was away at the time so my Dad was having his seat and I was sitting in the South Stand. He must have been kegged because I remember him coming out of Mary D’s and just shouting COME ONNNN at a load of reds outside the ground. After United had scored their penalty I remember looking up towards Daves seat in the East stand, to see my Dad fighting with a red in the corporate section (Daves old seat was literally right next to corporate). Grim. He managed to get down at half time and come and stand with me. I don’t think either of us were best pleased when Vassell missed that penalty, so much so that after the game, my Dad had picked up a bottle of coke that somebody had left behind and was ready to lob it into the away end. Sadly, and to my eternal shame, I stopped him and we went home.
And then Spurs away. Lost 2-1, as per. We didn't play well at all, as per. And you could tell that something had to change in the post-season or else we would be looking at certain relegation.
The next few weeks were strange. Pearce was sacked and the initial names to be linked with the City job sent shivers down your spine, as if Pearce's tenure wasn't scary enough. Ex-captain and long term defender Distin had gone to Portsmouth as Redknapp continued to spend money the club didn't have. Barton eventually went to Newcastle after some contract dispute, although things never got better for his career. What a waste...
I'd had a night out with a few mates and decided I'd have a drink. And that was it. I just got back on it from then on. I had to work all summer to make sure I could afford to go to City and drink next season. Oh and go to lectures. Maybe that being my priorities is what holds me back? In other news, it basically pissed it down all summer. Well June and July anyway. And throughout the time it was pissing down the disgrace Rihanna had that shite song about an umbrella. More on umbrellas in November.
I can remember being sat at home on a laptop when there was a thread on Bluemoon about a private helicopter being seen outside City. Loads of rumours about who it was. As time went past, we kept on hearing more and more about Dr. Thaksin Shinawatra (I'm not writing that out all the time, he'll now be known as "Dr. T") whilst the likes of Colin Shindler were moaning about the soul of the club going because we've sold ourselves out to the highest bidder, I was very much of the view that I couldn't give one about who owns the club, and the fans will always be our clubs soul. The part about him being a dictator were in one ear and out the other, the part about him being worth £2 billion was the only bit I was interested in. So a new owner in, and he's got to bring a new manager. In the same way I couldn't quite believe it when we signed Nicolas Anelka in 2002, I couldn't quite believe that Sven was now the City manager.
Sven got quite a bit of shit for the job he did at England. At the time, it seemed warranted that he should get shit because after all we had the "Golden Generation". But what has followed Sven in the six years since he left his post as England manager hasn't exactly been great. The majority of blues were up for giving him a chance though. There wasn't a lot of time between his appointment and the season starting, so what came next was the first time I felt real excitement for transfer activity. Players I'd heard of, players who had played in the Champions League, players who I'd seen and thought they were good. Bianchi, Fernandes, Geovanni, Petrov, Corluka, Garrido, Elano, Bojinov. Granted, in the long term they weren't up to much, but in August 2007, you couldn't believe what was going on. But could they gel?
Before the season started we had the infamous Thomas Cook trophy, this year against Valencia. Like any pre-season game, the game is pretty forgettable to point where all I really remember is where I sat in the ground and I remember the weather being alright. We lost 1-0, some Spanish kid scored for them, don't think he'll ever become much though (it was David Silva). What is most memorable about the day was what happened afterwards. Dr. T had thrown us a "Thai party" in town. What a strange afternoon it was. A few thousand City fans stumbling round town drinking Singha and eating Thai curry, whilst a few sketchy older blokes with their mail order brides watched on as we watched some Thai pop stars sing and eventually the whole squad coming on a stage with Sven and Dr. T and him singing "Blue Moon".
Fair fucks to whoever put this video up:
My toes curled up watching that.
Only with time has this day become more and more absurd in my mind. "Long Live the King of Thailand" it said on the big screens. What the fuck was going on? Everyone was pissed and we'd just spend £40 million on a load of talked up foreigners, so who cared? We weren't getting ahead of ourselves though, we just wanted to feel like we were going in the right direction...
The first game of the season was away to West Ham. This still stands up there as one of my favourite ever away games. We didn't know what to expect as West Ham had also strengthened their team a lot over the summer. It was a glorious day and the away end at West Ham was a proper sweat box. It was a great City away crowd that day. Before I entered the ground, some pleb from Match of the Day was there asking fans if they could name all the players that we'd bought in the close season. I told him to "fuck off and stop trying to take the piss", which I still stand by now. The press trying to make us look like knobs is nothing new, I'm afraid. What we witnessed on the pitch, we couldn't really believe. Players who wanted to get the ball on the ground and knock it about. Breaking and attacking with pace. Looking dangerous. Shooting. Out of nowhere Didi Hamann was looking like the player we thought we were signing. He broke up the oppositions attack and laid the ball off, never giving away possession. Micah had moved into central defense with Dunne and looked like a natural at the age of 19. Elano and Petrov looked unstoppable. We led 1-0 at half time as Bianchi scored on his debut. Second half, more of the same great movement and play. You could tell that some of these new lads were going to be fans favourites. There's one piece of skill which I have talked about for years since it happened, but I've never seen it happen since; Bojinov did a little turn/flick with his first touch and everyone in our end couldn't believe what we were seeing. A great debut for Corluka too, who came off for Nedum, who, with not long left in the match to go made a great run down the right before tackling the ball into new boy Geovanni's feet:
After the match the press were asking Sven why England never played like that when he managed England, "In England, there is no Elano." Which I think summed it up pretty well.
The following Wednesday we played Derby at home. Bear in mind that we hadn't scored a goal at home in the league since 1st January and the Derby game was 15th August. The game wasn't anything special, but from my then vantage point of East level 2 (my pre-South Stand days) I could read the game better than I had from behind the goal at West Ham. There seemed to be an actual pattern of play. Dunne would get it and give it Didi, who would then give it to the ever-improving Michael Johnson who would then give it to Elano and something would happen. That evening we did score, and it was Johnson who got the monkey off our shoulder as we won 1-0.
Only a few days later, the Sunday, we played United at home. Unfortunately, due to the importance and result of the match at Old Trafford the following February this game will probably be over looked by some in the future (maybe even now). At times United were all over us, but some absolutely magnificent displays by Richards and Dunne kept us in it. Geovanni scored midway through the first half to absolute bedlam in the stadium. The goal aside, the most memorable moment of the match was in the dying seconds as United had a corner and Ferguson thought that our mate Carlos had scored, to only have just put it wide. Ferguson's face as the realisation sinks in is hilarious. As the game finished, we were on nine points, and joint top of the league whilst United were on two points and in the relegation zone. Obviously it didn't mean much after three games, but their 1-0 win at our place only three months earlier seemed like a lifetime ago.
A week later and another glorious day in the London sunshine. City in great spirits and good voice as we played Arsenal. It's not my favourite away day, but back when the pricing was sensible at The Emirates we used to take down a proper good City crowd. Out of our three games we had bossed two of them and been a bit lucky in the third. We needed a bit of luck on our side against this Arsenal team as they were looking their best for a few years. We thought that we'd had our luck when Van Persie missed a penalty in the second half, but with not long to go Fabregas scored the winner for them. We left with our heads held high despite the loss - we came out of the game with a lot of credit.
I missed the next two games, Bristol City away in the League Cup (won 2-1) and Blackburn away (lost 1-0) as I was off to Magaluf for a week with my mates on the Saturday. Great times out in the sun at the end of the summer, especially as I was out there with two United season ticket holders just after we had beaten them.
The player who everyone was talking about around then was young Michael Johnson. At 19 he was looking to be a big star for the future of not only City but English football. His performance against Aston Villa where he scored the winner summed up why he was so highly rated. He rarely wasted the ball, he broke up the play and made driving runs forward from deep positions. People comparing him to Colin Bell etc. All seems mad now. Suppose when you give a teenager a big contract and he gets injured he's got to spend his time and money doing something. But I'll still stand by my view that of all the kids Jim Cassell produced, he showed the most talent.
From one youth team player to another, the midweek news was all about Stephen Ireland. He had left an international match with Ireland because he claimed his Grandmother had died. But then it was revealed she hadn't. And then he said it was the other one. And she hadn't. I think that was it anyway. The truth didn't come out for another 14 months, when he finally admitted that it was his girlfriend who had had a miscarriage. It was a strange circumstance with the strange man. He had also just gone from being a balding 20 year old to having a full head of hair. And he'd had some mysterious illness as he missed the derby. Odd bloke.
Great game the week later away to Fulham. We had seen glimpses as to why Martin Petrov had been talked up before he came to City, but on this day he really showed his ability. Top atmosphere at Craven Cottage. Unfortunately we drew 3-3, but there was no denying how much City had improved under Sven. The dross that Pearce served us only a few months earlier seemed like a distant memory. (I'm aware we won the same game a few months earlier.)
I returned back to uni for my second year the day after this. I remember meeting up with a few of my mates that I hadn't seen for a few months in a pub for some lunch. We had been there quite a few times in my first year, but since the last time we visited, it had appeared to become a bit more rogue that it was before. This was shown when someone who worked there walked up to me with my burger and chips whilst helping himself to a few "sorry mate, yer chips are a bit frazzled like". I still have trouble believing that happened, but it did.
"Big night tonight Liam. Are you coming out tonight? Let's see what the new freshers are like. Everyone's out." Er, no actually. I think I'll go and watch City play at home to Norwich in the League Cup. And what a mistake that was. I really don't remember much of this game apart from it was fucking shite. We had witnessed some great football so far in the season and watched a lot of new exciting players, but as we entered the latter stages of the game Kelvin Etuhu slid the ball through to Samaras (yeah, he was still around) and we won 1-0. Many people seemed relieved when the goal went in. The match was that awful that another 30 mins of extra time might have sent people to sleep.
As Fulham the week earlier had really brought Martin Petrov to our attention, this week and the week after highlighted how good Elano was. We went 1 down to Newcastle but then came back to win 3-1, with the third goal being the Elano free kick that many City fans would put down as the best one they've seen.
He scored another two the week after against Middlesbrough at home. It was October by now and the football we were playing was the best we had seen since Benarbia and Berkovic were embarrassing teams in the Championship. Petrov, Elano, Ireland and Johnson all played the ball around brilliantly to one another. It's just a shame that we didn't really have a settled striker to bang the goals in. Bojinov had picked up a bad injury against United, Bianchi was homesick and Mpenza never let us down, but not quite up to our standards now...
The following week we were at home to Birmingham. I remember things around the game better than I remember the actual match. It was some sort of anniversary for the Zulu's, so they had a bit of an old hooligan turn out at City. Still didn't take their full allocation. I didn't see anything go down, but by the sound of it, a few went to escape the police cordon after the match and ran towards Grey Mare Lane, and got absolutely twatted. I'm sure there was more to it, but that's what I remember hearing at the time. Also, it was the rugby world cup final that night, and England were in it against South Africa in Paris. We lost. And afterwards it felt good to go back to being indifferent to rugby. As far as our match goes, Elano scored again to put us one up, despite there probably being a foul in the build up to the goal. Not a lot else happened and we won.
Having won the past four out of five, we travelled to Chelsea thinking that we might have a chance of winning there for the first time in about 15 years. I missed the game as the night before it was a mates birthday and we were at Warehouse Project in town. It was good, but I only got about an hours sleep before getting to a pub to watch us. It was one of those games which you try to blank out your mind. We were losing 2-0 at half time, and felt like we could get back into it. We went on to lose 6-0. My lasting memory is Garrido just stopping as Joe Cole ran past him like he wasn't there. I also remember Michael Ball playing in midfield at one point.
No time to dwell, as the next round of the League Cup was only a few days later. It was Halloween, and the mask shops of Bolton must have made some money as I saw some horrific sites. We took the whole end there, quite a good atmosphere. I was on the top tier with my uncle. I remember him buying a pie and it basically fell apart in his hands as he bit into it. Shocker. The game wasn't up to much, Bolton weren't the team they had been two years or so earlier, but they still had some decent players. Elano scored a penalty deep into the second half and we were through to the quarters of the League Cup.
Sunderland were the next team to play us at home. It was the first time that Roy Keane had brought a team to City (do you remember when everyone thought he was going to be a great manager?) and he (rightfully) got a lot of abuse. Into the second half, Vassell crossed the ball over to Stephen Ireland to volley the ball in. After he scored he went on to pull his shorts down to reveal his Superman underwear and pose like Clark Kent. I thought he was a bit of a knob for doing it, but a lot of City fans thought it was funny. He escaped punishment from the FA for doing it anyway. And I suppose the nickname of "Superman" was a bit better than "Wiggy".
I didn't go to Portsmouth as I couldn't afford the travel on my own at the time, plus it was my birthday weekend as I turned 20. Luckily it was a televised game, so I managed to watch it. Could have won, could have lost. Great time out for my birthday though.
Not City related, but you can't speak of football in November 2007 without remembering where you were when Shteve McClaren walked out on to the dugout of Wembley with an umbrella. We had to beat Croatia to go through to the European Championships. Goalkeeping fuck ups and England being poor gave us a 3-2 loss at home and we didn't qualify. It was shocking at the time. I remember The Sun having a deflated football on the front page. England is always good for making glory supporters know how it feels to support a team that always lets you down. All of a sudden people started to realise that maybe Sven wasn't such a fool, and maybe our "Golden Generation" were actually just over hyped knobheads.
The weekend after we played Reading at home. It should be mentioned that although we were still playing nice football and we were great to watch, we were slowly starting to get sussed out a bit. Elano had quietened somewhat, but Petrov's pace made sure that he was always a handful for fullbacks. After taking the lead, Reading pegged us back before half time. The match was petering out and I really couldn't see us scoring. But with almost the last kick of the game, Sunderland's match winner Stephen Ireland volleyed the ball into the top corner and we won the game 2-1. It had seemed like a long time since we scored a last minute winner, so the scenes when the goal went in were pretty memorable. The lad who sat in front of me and my uncle pushed his mum to one side so he could celebrate with us - which made me laugh a lot afterwards. Watching it back on the TV later on, Isaksson has even ran the length of the pitch to celebrate with the team.
Going into December we had only lost three games all season. Things really were looking good for City. We knew we weren't going to win the league despite being only 4 points off the top spot at the time but surely we should be capable of finishing in a European spot? On the 1st December we travelled to Wigan. The only other time I had been to the JJB (as it was then called) was to see us lose 4-0 the season before. Surely we could do better today, as they were struggling and had recently appointed Steve Bruce as their manager. And after about 30 seconds we were 1-0 up. Titus Bramble had made one of his classic errors to let in Geovanni (making a rare start). City fans hadn't even got into their seats it was that early into the game. From what I remember, we were largely the better side, but having Samaras up front was our downfall. Into the second half he was taken off to a chorus of boo's in the City end. I've never been one for booing one of our own, and even that waste of space didn't deserve it on that day, as he didn't have his worst appearance in the blue shirt. We never saw Gorgeous George again as he was soon off to play for Celtic. We drew the game 1-1, which was disappointing but not the end of the world. Back out in Sheffield that night and I was drinking quite a few of some knock off versions of Desperado. I hadn't seen them for years until I went to a night club in Hannover in the summer for the Wolfsburg pre-season game. The reason why I remember the drink is because I was violently sick the whole of the next day. I remember shaking and shivering thinking "why?" when I was watching the FA Cup draw. We were drawn away against West Ham, but that was in 2008, so maybe another day.
On the 8th December the worlds eyes were on Las Vegas as Ricky Hatton fought Floyd Mayweather. I stayed up and watched the fight round another City fans house. We were gutted with the outcome, as Hatton was well and truly beaten by a better opponent, but even more worrying was the fact that we were getting picked up about an hour later to go to Spurs away. I can't recall too much of that morning. The City end all seemed a bit deflated and like everyone had been up all night watching the fight. Spurs away being Spurs away, we lost 2-1. Their first goal was offside. Bianchi scored a great header for us and then after Ireland had got himself sent off, Defoe scored the winner for them. It felt like we were robbed at the time. Not a good omen for when we play them again in the League Cup quarter final...
First we had to play the team we knocked out in the last round of the Cup; Bolton. Quite an entertaining game, this. We went 1 up, then they went 2-1 up. Once we had got it to 2-2 we knew only one team were going to win. A cheeky back heel from Vassell gave us the lead again and in the dying minutes Garrido set up Kelvin Etuhu for what I'm sure was his first and only goal for City. So far we had played 9 home games in the league and won all 9. After so much shit the years before it was great to finally feel like it was worth spending money on a season ticket. I believe that this season was the turning point on making the City of Manchester Stadium a place that teams (apart from Everton) wouldn't want to come to. Not to the extent that Mancini has made it that way, but a huge improvement on previous seasons.
So to the quarter finals of the League Cup. Before the game began we had the exciting (yes, it was exciting at the time) news that much fancied Mexican forward Nery Castillo was singing for us on a year long loan in January. He was on the pitch before the match and everything. The match was one of those which I try to forget. Spurs were a lot better than us. Well not Spurs, Dimitar Berbatov was better than anyone on the pitch. They had a man sent off after going one up and played on the break. We couldn't score and they made it look all quite easy. We didn't play badly, we were just seemingly getting more and more sussed every week. Out of the cup then. Oh well. 32 years and we're still here etc.
I travelled up to Birmingham the following Saturday with my Dad to see us play Villa. We knew that we weren't going to catch the likes of United, Chelsea and Arsenal, so Villa, Liverpool and Everton were all big games for us at the time. Villa fans can really generate a great atmosphere when they want to, and City were also in good voice which played off the games high intensity. Early on in the first half Petrov set up Bianchi to put us 1 up. Villa were a very good side under O'Neill. Before half time they levelled from a John Carew goal. Nothing remarkable stands out in the second half and we had a good away point against a close rival.
Two games left of the year and both of them home games. Blackburn first. This game will always be remembered by me as when Petrov had the game of his life. He absolutely roasted their full back THAT much that they had to take him off at half time. His pace was electrifying. Unfortunately, that arsehole Hughes had a well organised team at the time (which he never ever had for us) and they had a striker who we wish that had. Well, not too long after we bought that striker. Roque Santa Cruz scored two against us as we drew 2-2 and dropped our first home points of the season. I really though Roque was great and I thought he was going to be a top signing when we spent all that money on him in 2009. How he passed a medical, I'll never know.
Three days later we took on Liverpool. Liverpool were pretty decent round then, but as always lacked consistency. Fernando Torres had done OK, but not really hit the heights of the following season. It was a hard fought 0-0 draw on the day, which will probably be best remembered for the image of Richard Dunne putting his body on the line for City. We were happy with the point as it seemed a bit lucky as Liverpool were probably the better team.
We finished the year in 5th place, after getting 36 points from our first 20 games. A year earlier at the same stage we were 10th with 26 points; quite an improvement. What underlines how poor the first half of 2007 was is the 16 points we picked up in the remaining 18 games. Unfortunately for City and Sven our second half of the season in 2007=08 wasn't too much better. We ended up finishing 9th, although we qualified for the Uefa Cup via the Fair Play league. Sven lost his job. And we employed Mark Hughes.
I don't think we will ever see a year with so much change in it as 2007. You could spend a long time thinking about what would have happened if Dr. T never came in, and then after that you could think about what would have happened if he hadn't sold City to our current owners. The new City era will have a lot written about it from 2008-09 onwards, but for me, a far more interesting time was between 2003-2008.
Hope you've enjoyed reading.
Liam.
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